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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046083">Tapes from a recorder left in a stationery cupboard in The Magnus Institute.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/reheatedsoup/pseuds/reheatedsoup'>reheatedsoup</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The Magnus Archives (Podcast)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Fluff, M/M, Set early s1, brief mention of teeth, elias makes the tiniest appearance at the end, literally no spoilers at all, pre jane prentiss, so don’t worry there’s very little focus on him being a bastard, some light tim/sasha flirting as well, this is my take on an office comedy that still sort of sticks to canon, tim being a bastard (loveable), workplace banter</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-03-14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-03-15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-16 02:08:55</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>6</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,589</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/30046083</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/reheatedsoup/pseuds/reheatedsoup</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Tapes from a recorder left in a stationery cupboard in The Magnus Institute.<br/>(Takes place around early S1. Maybe the spooky shit will happen in the future but not yet. Not in this story)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Martin Blackwood/Jonathan "Jon" Sims | The Archivist</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>63</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Just something silly and cute I wrote about the early days in the institute &lt;3 Nothing serious- just Jon and Martin being cute and Tim being a loveable bastard. I hope you like it!</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>[Tape Recorder Clicks On.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door creaks open.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Footsteps and then the sounds of boxes being moved around.]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>
  <span>I swear by now I would know where the pens are kept in here.. I lose enough of them. Just place them down on my desk while I look something up or get some tea and then.. Gone. Maybe there’s a monster living under my desk. Just eating my pens….Should make a statement on it. Hm.  </span>
  <em>
    <span>(amused) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jon would love that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Boxes still being moved around]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(In a very over exaggerated Jon Impression) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Statement of Martin Blackwood, regarding the alleged pen eating monster living under his desk. Original statement given March 14th 2016. Audio recording by Jonathan Sims, Head Archivist of the- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(caught) </span>
  </em>
  <span>oh, er…… hello Jon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Having .. fun? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin. </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(quickly) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yes. I mean. No. I mean. Nevermind. Just getting some pens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Yep. Pens. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A box of pens shakes once.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>So I’ll be going then. Lots of work to do.. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(all business) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Of course. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Bye Jon. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Footsteps, getting quieter as Martin is walking away]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Goodbye Martin. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(calling after him and audibly smiling) </span>
  </em>
  <span>And don’t forget to put your statement of the pen eating monster on my desk by Monday. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Door Shuts.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Tape recorder clicks off.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door creaks open.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(mumbling) </span>
  </em>
  <span>didn’t even get the pens in the end.. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Box shaking and being placed back down.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door shuts.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door opens, the sound of two pairs of footsteps and laughter.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(half laughing) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tim when you said you needed help carrying something heavy I didn’t think you meant something from </span>
  <em>
    <span>here </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(mock offended) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Why? What’s wrong with this cupboard? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Because the heaviest box in here is… that box of staples. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah well. Caught me. Allow me to just… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Door shuts.]</span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Light clicks on]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(still laughing) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tim. You didn’t bring me in here to try and romance me in.. the stationery cupboard did you? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Romance you? Well someone thinks </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>highly of themselves. No, I'm here to show you something obviously. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha</b>
</p><p>
  <span>What? You didn’t find more of Martin’s poetry did you? Leave that poor boy alone, Tim. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>
  <span>No, this is better. So.. close your eyes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay…… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Sounds of boxes being moved.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay open them! Ta Da! </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Tim, why are you showing me a box of paperclips?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Okay fine… maybe I </span>
  <em>
    <span>was </span>
  </em>
  <span>trying to romance you. But, in my defence I didn’t think it was </span>
  <em>
    <span>that </span>
  </em>
  <span>bad of an idea. It’s romantic here… we’re close together… dim lighting.. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha </b>
</p><p>
  <span>...paperclips… pens… we’re about five meters away from our boss. You’re going to have to do better next time because this is your worst plan yet. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>
  <span>So you’re okay with there being a next time?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha</b>
</p><p><em><span>(laughs)</span></em> <span>Whatever, Tim. </span></p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Door opens.]</span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Footsteps as they both leave] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Light clicks off.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door Shuts] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[Click.] </p><p>[Door Opens.] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Oh! Um- hi Jon. Sorry just here for, well some more pens. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>The pen eating monster strikes again? Some really ought to report that to somebody.</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>Ah- yeah I’m sorry about… well you know. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Oh Martin- don’t apologise for the crimes of the pen eating monster. </p><p> </p><p>[Martin chuckles] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Jon? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Yes Martin? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>Is there a reason you’re lying in the dark of the floor of the stationary cupboard? Or…</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Care to join me? It’s more peaceful than you think. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>I think I’d rather stand in the light for now thank you, Jon. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Well then at least let me.. </p><p> </p><p>[Sound of light clicking on, door shutting and John adjusting back to his position on the floor.] </p><p> </p><p>It just gets a bit much sometimes. Have you read the statement about the bin bags of teeth? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Ooo yeah.. Hated that one. Made my teeth hurt for days. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Yeah well. There’s only so many fucked up statements you can take before you.. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>… have to lie down in the complete dark in an office stationery cupboard </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Exactly. </p><p> </p><p>Are you sure you don’t want to join me? I can’t imagine it’s too fun researching the statements either. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Hm. Fine. But lights on please. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Sure. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Jon. Um. If it would help, if you’re not too busy. Would you like to… get coffee or something maybe? Just to take your mind off work. Just for some company. We wouldn’t even have to talk.. Unless you like talking.. Although I can’t imagine sitting in silence over drinks is much fun.. Or would even be a very good distraction from work… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p><em> (audibly smiling) </em>Yes, Martin. That would be nice. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>… Although I’ve heard silent company can actually be a big comfort.. I mean it’s a café so it won’t be silent. <em> I’ll </em>be silent. If you want that is- </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Martin, I said I would love to go. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Oh. Um.. are you sure? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p><em> (laughing) </em>Yes I’m sure. </p><p> </p><p>Do you even like coffee? I never see you drinking it. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Cafés make tea as well. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon </b>
</p><p>Fair enough. After work then? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Yeah.. yeah </p><p> </p><p>[A moment of silence.]</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Martin, is this a d- </p><p> </p><p>[Door opens suddenly.] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim</b>
</p><p><em> (gleeful.. So gleeful. This fucker might as well be a five year old on Christmas morning.) </em>Oh hi you two.. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p><em> (flustered) </em>oh… oh… hi Tim. Hi. Um… I was just in here to get… some pens </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>I didn’t know boss changed his name to pens recently </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Right… right… um </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Piss off, Tim. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>No need to get aggressive, Boss. I just came in for some more post it notes. Didn’t mean to disturb the two lovebirds. <em> (under his breath) </em>I told Sasha this cupboard was romantic. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Tim, remember I can get you fired </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>Noted boss, very much noted. I will leave the lovebirds be. Next time I want something I’ll remember to knock first Boss, don't you worry. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Tim, we weren’t… </p><p> </p><p>[Door shuts.] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>R-right well. I’ll be off then. </p><p> </p><p>[Door opens.] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>So tonight then? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin. </b>
</p><p>Oh! Oh yes tonight! </p><p> </p><p>[Footsteps, the door shuts.] </p><p> </p><p><em> (muffled, quieter as he yells from outside the cupboard) </em>Oh piss off, Tim! </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>He’s so cute. </p><p> </p><p>[Click.] </p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door opens.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>You forgot the pens again?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>Catch.  </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Sound of pen falling to the floor.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(flustered) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oh- sorry. Thank you. Sorry again. Thanks. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Door shuts.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>[Click.] </p><p>[Door opens.] </p><p>[Footsteps.] </p><p>[Door shuts] </p><p>[Sounds of movement when - ] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Fuck. Ow. What the- </p><p> </p><p>[Light clicks on] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>Dear boss. Saw you and Martin going off together after work last week. And Martin has been offering to bring tea into your office even more than usual  (which Sasha and I didn’t even think could be possible). Because I am <em> such </em>a good employee I decided to make the cupboard even more romantic for you. Have left the candles, the matches, a blanket and a ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign for you. Don’t worry about mentioning it- consider it a gift from me to the happy couple. Kisses, Tim. </p><p> </p><p>Ps. Sasha told me to tell you that she had no part in this (although she says she is very happy for you and Martin)</p><p> </p><p>Pps. Can you mention to Sasha how romantic you and Martin find this cupboard. I’m trying to prove a point but every time I try to get Martin to tell her he looks like he wants to throw his cup of tea at me. Thanks, Boss. </p><p> </p><p><em> (dryly) </em>One of these days I’m going to speak to Elias about firing Tim. </p><p> </p><p>[Light clicks off.] </p><p>[Click.] </p><p> </p><p>[Click.] </p><p>[Door opens.] </p><p> </p><p>[Tim Laughs] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p><em> (this might as well be the best day of his life) </em>Oh wait until Martin sees this. </p><p> </p><p>[Door shuts.] </p><p>[Door opens a moment later.] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim</b>
</p><p><em> (his day just got a little bit better) </em> Oh I am <em> such </em>a genius. </p><p> </p><p>[Sound of phone camera taking a picture.] </p><p>[Door shuts.]</p><p>[Clicks.] </p><p> </p><p>[Clicks.]</p><p>[Door opens.] </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Tim whatever it is you want- </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p><em> (whispers) </em>shh, Martin. Listen I promise you’re going to want to see this. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin. </b>
</p><p>Oh. Tim why is… Why is Jon asleep in the stationary cupboard? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>I suppose it must be very tiring being Boss. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Right. And where did he get the blanket from?</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p><em> (this day literally cannot get any better) </em>I thought it would be a nice gesture to make the cupboard more comfortable for The Institute’s favourite couple. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p><em> (pained) </em> Tim I told <em> you-  </em></p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>And I told <em> you </em>that I have eyes, Martin. I saw John’s face before your date last week. And your face literally every time you speak to him. And here I was thinking Sasha and I could be the power couple of the institute.  </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>Right… well… Do we wake him up? </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>I say let him rest. Give us a break from hearing about how unorganised Gertrude was, how messy the archives are, how utterly untrue and ridiculous all the statements are. Maybe you can stay here and wait for him to wake up. He can ask you whether he’s still dreaming… you can tell him that every moment spent with him is like a dream come true… you two can make use of the ‘Do Not Disturb’ sign I made for you… </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>I’m leaving, Tim. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim</b>
</p><p>Martin don’t be like that… I don’t think John will be as happy if<em> I </em>were the first thing he saw when he woke up. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>Lets <em> go, </em>Tim. </p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p><em> (laughing) </em>whatever you say, lovebird </p><p> </p><p>[Door shuts.] </p><p>[Click.] </p><p> </p><p> </p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(sleepily)</span>
  </em>
  <span> I… what.. Where am… Ah, yes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Light clicks on.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>What's this… Dear Jon. Left you this flask of tea for you when you woke up. Didn’t want to leave you alone but didn’t want to wake you up so will be around the archives if you need me. Martin. Hm. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Door opens.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Footsteps.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(calling for Martin but getting quieter as he walks away) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Martin? Martin? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(even further away so quieter but still audible) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Oh! Here, Jon. Hang on… be right there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Footsteps, gets louder as Martin gets closer to Jon] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Martin, uh what time is it? I’m assuming late by the fact… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh yeah. Everyone else left a while ago. It’s not too late though- only around 10. But still… just us I’m afraid. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon. </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Ah. So I’ve been asleep..</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>A while yeah. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Did anyone else see me…</span>
  <em>
    <span> (sighs) </span>
  </em>
  <span>… yeah I thought I heard Tim’s voice. God, I’m going to have to quit now aren’t I? I will never hear the end of it. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I’m sure… he’ll let it go… something else will happen… No yeah. Tim um. Well there might be some pictures around tomorrow. I tried to take most of them down but- Tim had Sasha’s help and… </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes I can already imagine. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon... can I… well how do you get so tired that you fall asleep for hours at </span>
  <em>
    <span>work. </span>
  </em>
  <span>I know the job can be a bit much… the hours aren’t exactly the regular 9-to-5 and I wouldn’t exactly call this an “office job” and the statements are- well you know. But still- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon </b>
</p><p>
  <span>The statements they’re… more than I thought they were going to be. Reading them out loud- well they’re starting to stick with me. I’ve been having trouble sleeping. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. I guess getting coffee again won’t help with that. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(amused) </span>
  </em>
  <span>No. Not quite. And it’s not entirely that.. Tim actually did a rather decent job at making the cupboard comfortable. See- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Footsteps as they both get closer to the closet] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh. Sort of a shame he wasted his plan on us then. Should have used it for Sasha. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Hm. Try and tell him that tomorrow when everyone in the archives is treated to pictures of me wrapped up in a blanket asleep in a stationery cupboard. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s a cute picture at least. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>I- excuse me?</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Oh w-well. You know. Some people are really… gross sleepers. I had a friend in secondary school and… drool everywhere. Or some people sleep with their mouth hanging open which isn’t too pleasant either. You look- you look. You know. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(amused) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Cute. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin</b>
</p><p>
  <span>I-Yes. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A moment of silence.]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon... before- before Tim walked in on us, um, talking here the other day.. you were going to ask me whether- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Whether you asking me to coffee was a date or not? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Well? Was it? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A second moment of silence- this one feels longer but it’s not really.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Quietly and maybe a little sadly. But full of understanding nonetheless.) </span>
  </em>
  <span>It’s okay, Martin. I’m sorry I asked. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>I brought it up. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Sighs) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yes well. Still. I’m sorry I asked. I’ll be off then I think. </span>
  <em>
    <span>(Tries to make his tone a little lighter but… real emphasis on </span>
  </em>
  <em>
    <span>tries) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Need to brace myself for Tim tomorrow. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A single pair of footsteps...getting fainter and fainter until-] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Wait! Wait! Jon- Wait come back. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A second pair of footsteps, running and getting fainter.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Jon and Martin talk in the distance- their voices too faint to hear what is being said.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Jon laughs- loudly. And Martin’s laugh follows.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Somewhere in the distance, a door closes.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door opens.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Fabric rustling.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Suddenly, Martin yells- but it’s cut off quickly.]</span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Door closes.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Laughing) </span>
  </em>
  <span>shh, Martin, shh. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Jon, what the </span>
  <em>
    <span>hell. </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Still laughing a bit) </span>
  </em>
  <span>I’m sorry I didn’t know how to subtly ask you in here- </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <span>So you just pulled me into the stationery cupboard. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Christ </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jon.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>I wanted to be alone with you </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Under his breath) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Jesus Christ one kiss and he completely loses his head. Jon, do I have to remind you you’re still my boss?  Perhaps a subtle way of asking me to see you would be for you to call me into your office as, oh I don’t know, your employee? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>Yes well.. </span>
  <em>
    <span>(one kiss clearly did make him lose his head because Jon did not think of that and is now very sheepish.) </span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Now a little fondly as the initial shock has faded) </span>
  </em>
  <span>You’re completely hopeless you know that right? And what was your plan for when Tim eventually noticed I was missing, put two and two together and came here? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Fuck.) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Fuck. I didn’t- I didn’t think that far ahead. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Teasing) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Of course you didn’t. You weren’t, I don’t know, thinking of this instead.. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Suddenly, the recording is full of static. Who knows why. It’s certainly not hiding kissing noises. Just a little recording malfunction. Remember these tapes are </span>
  <em>
    <span>very </span>
  </em>
  <span>old- these things happen.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <span>(</span>
  <em>
    <span>Quietly, slightly muffled.) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Yes. Now you mention it…  thinking back I do believe that was all I was thinking about when I pulled you in here. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Martin </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Softly laughs) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Ah. So I’ll forgive you for this, quite frankly, horribly plan then. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[A knock on the door.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Tim </b>
</p><p>
  <span>Boss and Martin! Once you’re done kissing in the cupboard can you let me or Sasha know. We unfortunately need to get some more staples… take your time though, Boss take your time. </span>
  <em>
    <span>(Raises voice) </span>
  </em>
  <span>At least somebody gets to have a romantic time in there. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Sasha </b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Laughing- she sounds further away) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Stop it Tim or I’ll get Jon to fire you. Although I doubt right now he needs much convincing. </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Door opens]</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Jon</b>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>(Amused) </span>
  </em>
  <span>Tim, listen to Sasha.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Somewhere far away a door opens.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Footsteps coming closer.] </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <b>Elias </b>
</p><p>
  <span>What are you all </span>
  <em>
    <span>doing </span>
  </em>
  <span>that is causing this much noise? </span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>[Everybody laughs- apart from Elias of course.] </span>
</p><p>
  <span>[Click.] </span>
</p>
  </div></div>
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